The Connection Read online

  The Connection

  Books by Adriana Locke

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Bonus Material

  The Perception ~ Chapter 1

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  The Exception (The Exception Series Book #1)

  Purchase from Amazon

  The Connection (The Exception Series Book #1.5)

  Thank you for reading The Connection.

  Please consider leaving an honest review.

  The Perception (The Exception Series Book #2)

  Purchase from Amazon

  Sacrifice ~ Coming July 13, 2015

  The Connection

  Copyright (c) Adriana Locke, 2015

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of the book.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design:

  Kari March, K23 Designs

  www.facebook.com/designK23

  Cover Photos:

  Dollar Photo Club

  www.dollarphotoclub.com

  Editing:

  Ashley Amigoni, Escapist Freelance Editing

  www.facebook.com/AshleyAmigoniFreelanceEditor

  Interior Design and Formatting:

  Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable

  www.perfectlypublishable.com

  This book is dedicated to Heather Peiffer.

  You knew these characters before anyone else. You pushed me to dig deep and do things I never thought I was capable of doing. Your friendship means more to me than I could ever express. Thank you for standing by me, loving me, and for your (sometimes brutal) honesty. You’re a keeper.

  I love you.

  JADA

  “Damn it, Cane! Stop it!” Kari’s hands dart to the sides, grabbing the arm rests in the Denali for dear life.

  “What? I’m just making sure you’re awake for the flight.”

  “I’m awake! For heaven’s sake! Slow down!”

  “You’re just encouraging him, sweetheart,” Max laughs. “He’s just getting warmed up.”

  The traffic is heavy, even for early afternoon in Phoenix. Cane weaves us in and out of lanes, causing Kari to alternately squeal and curse my fiancé out. We are cutting our flight time close, but unlike my traveling companions, I don’t really care. I’m too happy to be bothered by missed flights or speeding tickets.

  I flip through the bridal magazine on my lap in a state of bliss that I’ve never known before. I feel like I’m trapped in my own little world of happiness, a little bubble of near-perfection that I want to float around in forever. A few months ago, I hoped for more. But I never even dreamed for this.

  Just a few weeks ago, Cane Alexander asked me to be his wife. A man that seemed to be every wrong thing ended up being everything. They say you can’t judge a book by its cover. I’ve learned that you can’t judge a man by the one before him, either.

  I turn the page of the magazine and my engagement ring catches the sunlight. I can’t help my silly grin as I watch it sparkle. This ring is stunning. A 4-carat cushion halo diamond on a platinum, diamond-encrusted band, it’s perfect aesthetically. But it’s the sentiment behind it that makes the breath catch in my throat every time I look at it.

  It’s the thought that the love of my life, this cocky bad boy, picked up my sister on a Saturday morning. They walked into a jewelry store—four, to be exact—until he found a ring that he thought I’d like. He nearly drove the salespeople crazy in the process, according to Kari. She said he wouldn’t settle and asked to see tray after tray of rings. He knew what he wanted and ultimately selected the exact ring I would’ve picked myself if I had the chance.

  I feel him watching me. My cheeks heat as I glance up and meet his beautiful blue eyes in the rearview mirror. He holds my gaze for a moment; the look he gives me sets my body aflame. All I need to know about how he feels about me is reflected in the mirror hanging off his dash. He winks before sliding his sunglasses back up and focuses on the road.

  I might be his girl, but he’s my guy. The only guy in the world for me.

  I’m sitting behind Max strategically because I love to watch Cane drive. He does it the same way he does everything—completely at ease and a little wild, but in total control. He takes charge of the road much in the same way he took charge of me: with aggression, passion, and unapologetically.

  Cane is perched behind the wheel, his blond hair, in need of a cut, combed back. The ends are touching the popped-up color of his blue polo shirt. His angular jawline has yesterday’s stubble. The late night we had last night caused us to oversleep this morning . . . and caused us to have cookie dough for breakfast.

  I sigh with a grin and watch the city go by. I do a quick mental checklist, hoping I have everything packed.

  I wasn’t expecting a trip to Vegas. Cane had adamantly opposed the idea as soon as Kari mentioned it the day we got engaged. He told her then that he wouldn’t let me out of his sight and I figured that was just because of all of the stuff we’d just been through with Simon Powers.

  Regardless, I didn’t hear any more about Vegas until Wednesday night, less than forty-eight hours ago. We’d been to dinner with Kari and Max and she brought it up again. Cane excused himself from the table. When he came back, he let us know that there were four tickets booked to Vegas this weekend. I thought he was kidding, but Kari and Max seemed more than willing to go. So I played along. It wouldn’t be a bachelorette party per se, considering we didn’t even have a wedding date set. But it would be fun to get away and relax and, truth be told, I’d rather go with Cane anyway.

  “Look at that,” Kari says, pointing to a bouquet on the page on my lap. “Those roses are gorgeous!”

  “They are. But I want pink flowers.”

  “Pink? What about orange?”

  “I’ve always wanted pink flowers in a wedding.”

  “Then she’s getting pink flowers,” Cane says, glancing at us over his shoulder.

  “Pink flowers. Got it,” Kari sighs, leaning back in her seat. “Do you realize flowers are the one thing you know for sure?”

  “Kari, I really just don’t care. I just want to be married. The details are irrelevant to me.”

  “What happened to wanting a princess wedding?”

  I shrug because I don’t know. It had been a dream of mine since I was a little girl, the beautiful wedding I didn’t get with Decker. But now, it just seems unnecessary. I just want to be Mrs. Cane Alexander. I’ll skip the ice cream, fudge, and sprinkles and go right to the cherry on top.

  “You’re so not a girl,” Kari mutters. “So pink flowers. What else? What kind of dres
s do you like? How do you want your hair done? What color is my bridesmaid dress?”

  “We’ve been through this a million times. I. Don’t. Care.”

  “It’s important! I look really good in warm colors. You should keep that in mind.”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Why? Because I don’t want a puffy pink princess gown? Call me crazy . . .”

  “You’re crazy all right,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  Max turns around in his seat and looks at Kari. He grins, his dimple setting deep in his cheek. “You could wear a trash bag and you’d be gorgeous.”

  Kari blushes at the compliment, but doesn’t say anything. She grabs the magazine off my lap and pages through it.

  They’ve been together longer than Cane and I. They introduced us, after all. It’s obvious to anyone watching that Max is in total love with Kari and I know my sister adores him. But there’s always a slight rift between them that I can’t put my finger on. Cane and I have talked about it a hundred times and we can’t figure it out.

  “If Jada wants you to wear a pink dress, you’ll wear a pink dress. Got it?” Cane says, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut it, Alexander,” Kari says, narrowing her eyes at the back of Cane’s head. “Okay, back to the dress. What style are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking something simple and pretty. I’ll know it when I see it.”

  “Simple and pretty,” Kari nods, ignoring my hint at not pushing the issue. “Like that one?”

  She points to a sleeveless, form-fitting gown made of lace. It brushes the floor with a small train. It’s perfect.

  “Just like that, actually,” I breathe. “I love how it isn’t really fancy but it’s still just . . . pretty.”

  And it is. It’s perfect and beautiful and I know when we get back from Vegas, I will try to find this gown. There is a list of shops beneath it. I fold the corner of the page so I don’t lose it.

  “You picked a date yet?” Max asks, smirking and looking at Cane out of the corner of his eye. Cane turns and glares, making Max laugh.

  “I’m not sure,” I say, raising my eyebrows at their interaction. “We haven’t really discussed it. Maybe October? There’s so much to plan, even if we keep it small like I want to. I just don’t think I can get it figured out before then.”

  “October, huh? I think that sounds great,” Max says.

  “I’m not a fan of October.” Cane looks at me in the mirror again, taking his sunglasses off and sticking them in the front of his shirt. He casts me a stern look before concentrating on the road again.

  “November, then,” I say, baffled. “I don’t really care, but you’re going to have to give me time, Cane. And you want to write our own vows! Ugh! I might just hire a wedding planner for this. You’re going to have to be patient.”

  “That’s not one of my finest virtues.”

  “No shit,” Max mumbles.

  “I have to be lacking somewhere.”

  Kari rolls her eyes. “Whatever, dude. You are so awesome—just ask you, right?”

  “Honesty is a virtue I do possess, yes,” Cane deadpans.

  Kari shakes her head and looks shocked. “Is he serious?”

  I laugh. They’ve been disagreeing a lot lately, like they are in some constant playful pissing match. It’s almost like they like disagreeing with each other just for the sake of it. It’s entertaining but it’s starting to drive me a little crazy.

  “I don’t know why you two can’t stop with the back and forth,” I say.

  “Because he thinks he trumps me now,” Kari says.

  “Because she obviously doesn’t know her place,” Cane says simultaneously.

  “My place? You’ve got to be kidding me!” Kari nearly yells.

  “You guys are making me want to drink already and we’re a helluva long way from Vegas,” Max groans, taking his hat off and running his hand through his hair. “You two are oil and water.”

  We turn into a parking garage, Cane taking a ticket from the machine. He glances at Kari through the mirror and then speeds forward, taking the turns much faster than necessary. Kari squeals as Cane slides the Denali into a parking spot and shuts off the engine in one smooth move.

  “How do you two ride with him all the time? I’d kill him!” Kari opens her door and hops out.

  “Oh, Jada likes to ride more often than not. She can give you details if you’re really curious,” Cane says, getting out and stretching his arms overhead. “But that might not be good for Max’s ego.”

  Cane opens my door, leaning against the frame and smiling. I start to undo my seatbelt, but my hands freeze. The way he looks at me, the way his gaze sees through every defense mechanism and bores into my soul, will never get old. With a single look, he makes me feel like I’ve always wanted . . . like I’m the only girl in the world.

  “Are you ready for Vegas, beautiful girl?” he reaches out and touches my cheek.

  “I am. I’m ready to put all this Simon stuff behind us and just start fresh.” I unbuckle my belt and lean forward, pressing a kiss against his chest. “I have a feeling this will be the start to the rest of our lives.”

  “I have a feeling you’re right. I have a feeling you are so right.”

  CANE

  The city shines at my feet like a chick across the bar. It looks good until you get up close and see it was a 50 foot paint job.

  I’ve never particularly liked this city. I had a few good nights here when I was younger and dumber. Everyone you meet on the Strip is a shark playing their own game and that shit gets old. I can find people wanting to use me at home; I don’t have to come to Vegas to get it.

  There’s no way Jada was coming here without me. Damn Kari for even suggesting it in the first place. Although, I think after my initial reaction, Kari kept bringing it up to watch me squirm. So I took this fucked up idea and do what I always do—bend it to suit me.

  And suit me it will.

  I hope.

  Nah, it will. Cause I’m me.

  I take a sip of water and wait for my girl. We chilled by the pool all day and have reservations for dinner shortly. She wanted to go for pizza, but I want to spoil her a little bit. So she’s in the shower doing the girly stuff she likes to do. I love when she makes the extra effort for my benefit, but she looks just as beautiful when she rolls out of bed in the morning, pissy because she didn’t get enough sleep. Calm or riled up, made up or in my t-shirt, she’s gorgeous.

  And she’s mine.

  I feel her walk in the room behind me. The air gets hot and the hair on the back of my neck alerts me to her presence. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she had a magnet inside of her that draws me.

  As she comes closer, I can see her reflection in the glass. She has her hair up and is in a red dress that hugs her curves. I breathe in deeply, yet quietly, searching for her scent. A blend of her perfume and her natural essence washes over me and brings everything into focus. She’s the calm in my chaos.

  Her scent races through my senses and my nerves awaken. I need my hands on her. Now.

  I set the bottle of water on the windowsill and turn to face her.

  She smiles at me, twirling her ring on her finger. She smoothes her dress down and my eyes go with the motion: down her voluptuous chest, around the sweet curve of her hip, and trail down the legs that seem to go forever in her heels.

  Sexy. As. Fuck.

  “You ready, babe?” Her voice is quiet. It makes me grin. She’s different than any woman I’ve ever met in my life. She’s beautiful and elegant, approachable yet sophisticated. She’s the complete fucking package and, to top it off, I’m more attracted to her than I’ve ever been to anyone. Because that’s the thing; regardless of how beautiful or sexy a woman is, it doesn’t necessarily translate into chemistry or desire for more than a night or two. But with Jada, I want her. I fucking need her every single day and night.

  “I’m re
ady to take that dress off of you.”

  She laughs softly, her cheeks blushing. “Not yet, Mr. Alexander. We have to have dinner first.”

  I make my way across the room, the plush carpet sinking with each step. My fingers itch to touch her skin; I want to feel her move beneath my touch. “All of that is irritating,” I grumble, pulling her into me. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, kissing her lightly.

  “All of what?”

  “That I can’t have my dessert first . . . and that I can’t call you Mrs. Alexander.”

  “Ah, well, you will soon. You’re just going to have to be patient.”

  “We’ve been over that,” I say, leaving a trail of kisses from behind her ear to her mouth.

  I capture her lips with mine. She sighs into my mouth. She runs her fingers through my hair like it’s hers to do with what she wants. I love it. I’m ready to call off dinner whether she likes it or not. She’s saved by a knock on the door.

  “It’s probably Kari and Max,” she whispers.

  “Fuck them.”

  “Cane! We can’t bail on dinner the first night here.”

  “Why not? They’re grownups. They can eat without us.”

  She twists her head away from me towards the door. “Come in!”

  “Y’all ready?”

  I groan at the southern drawl and lift my head to see Max and Kari standing in the doorway. Max is grinning, knowing he’s interrupted me and obviously enjoying my frustration.

  Bastard.

  “We are,” Jada smiles. “Let me grab my purse.”

  JADA

  The waitress refills my glass of Moscato. The liquid seems to flow slowly, yet the glass is full before I realize it. I try to remember how many glasses this has been.

  Two? Three? Four?

  Six?

  I shrug and thank her, lifting it to my lips again. It’s delicious and smooth, the pink color making me smile. It’s the color of the flowers I showed Kari. Or maybe it’s the alcohol making me smile.

  Who cares?

  I giggle and nearly choke on the drink.